


The Golden Hour

by Greenie (hidetheteaspoons)



Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith, Strike (TV 2017)
Genre: Cuddling & Snuggling, Developing Relationship, F/M, First Kiss, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Sex, Morning After, Morning Observations, POV Cormoran Strike, Romantic Fluff, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, post-ritz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-18
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:22:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28825890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hidetheteaspoons/pseuds/Greenie
Summary: Following their evening at the Ritz for Robin's 30th birthday, Strike and Robin come to a conclusion about their relationship. This leaves Cormoran feeling apprehensive, then optimistic about their future together.
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Comments: 20
Kudos: 96





	The Golden Hour

**Author's Note:**

> Just a fluffy little thing that came to me following a conversation with fellow Strike fans on Discord. 
> 
> As always, thanks @mysteriousphoenix for beta-ing this one for me!

_“you are like the golden hour,_

_it all glows different when_

_you're here.”_

_-butterflies rising_

Cormoran Strike had been awake for two hours, silently considering the never-ending stream of thoughts and questions swimming in his mind.

_What happens now?_

_Are we officially together?_

_She’s so beautiful._

_I’ve never felt this way about anyone._

_Will things change with the agency?_

_I trust her completely._

_I can’t be without her._

_What if she doesn't want me?_

_I lo--_

His thoughts were interrupted by a stirring whimper from Robin, who was nestled in the crook of his arm. She took a deep breath and sighed against his chest, unconsciously burrowing her face against the soft hair there.

Strike smiled to himself and reveled in the feeling of her warm body against his. He ran a hand through her hair, smoothing it back and placing a gentle kiss on top of her head. 

The previous evening, the evening of Robin's 30th birthday, had gone about as he had expected...until it didn't. He'd treated her to a shopping trip where he'd bought her new perfume, the smell of which now permeated the air around them. He hoped the smell never left his pillows. He'd then wined, or in their case, champagned and dined her at the Ritz until late in the evening. They'd gone for a walk in the crisp Autumn air before they’d decided to share a cab home. 

During their evening walk, Strike had been uncharacteristically bold. Without saying a word, he'd reached for her hand which swung between them as they walked. She had stopped momentarily while walking, as did he. He hadn't needed to look at her to feel her hesitation, but he’d done so anyway. The last thing he had wanted to do was to make her uncomfortable. 

Hazarding a sideways glance, he'd seen a slow smile spread across her face and a shiver, of what he'd hoped was delight, roll down her arms. She had shyly tucked a piece of hair behind her ear and looked down at the pavement beneath her feet before she'd taken a step forward and pulled him along with her.

Strike had taken this as her approval and followed her lead. He had wanted her to decide what would happen next. He had expected nothing more than what he'd planned: shopping, drinks, and dinner. Anything else that had come of the evening was, in his mind, the icing on the cake.

When they’d reached an intersection, she’d stopped and turned to face him, and searched his eyes for some kind of answer to her silent question. At that point, he would have done anything she’d asked of him, but she never said a word. She had looked down at their joined hands and smiled back up at him, squeezing his hand gently. 

He’d given her a small smile in return, before venturing to ask a question that held so many meanings, most of which he had been unsure of. 

“Home?” 

After a moment of consideration, she nodded. “Home.”

With that, they had turned to make their way back to the Ritz, where they were more likely to catch a cab. Strike had hailed one and given the driver his address, and only his. They both knew that Denmark Street was closest, and at that moment, it had made sense to go to his first. However, it had also left the possibility for more. The drive to Strike’s building had been silent, though, in the dark, back seat of the cab, Robin’s hand had found his once more and her fingers entwined with his. This gesture on her part had told him everything he needed to know, more than words ever could have.

When they’d reached Denmark Street, Strike had calmly paid the driver and slid out of the cab, assisting Robin as he went. He had helped her out of the cab and closed the door behind her, leading her to the familiar building and up the stairs. After they’d reached the second-floor landing, Strike gazed at her to be sure that this was what she wanted. She gave a slight nod and that had been all he needed to continue up the second flight of steps. Strike had unlocked the door and gestured her into his humble flat where a bottle of his favorite whisky sat on the small Formica table. 

After she’d set the bag with her perfume in it down on the table, Strike had gone to fetch two glasses, filling them with a finger of whisky each. He’d handed one to Robin and in one swift movement, they’d both knocked it back. Though they hadn’t said a word, the understanding was mutual - this had been their liquid courage. From there, things had happened quickly and wonderfully. 

“This isn’t your home, you know,” he’d ventured curiously, after returning their glasses to the table. 

“Maybe not,” she’d agreed. “But my home is the agency, and the life we’ve built down in that office. After all, I spend more time there than I do in my own flat.”

There had been a brief silence as he searched her eyes.

“My home is you, you know. Wherever you are - that’s…” she’d faltered slightly, struggling to complete her thought. “That’s where my home is, and I know it sounds…”

That had been all it took. He’d reached for her, one hand finding its way around her waist and the other cupping her cheek, and he’d kissed her as if his very life depended on it. It had been slow, warm, and chaste, and he’d been happier than he’d been in a long, long time. Then she had deepened the kiss, urging his tongue to move against hers. He’d caved and wrapped himself around her, picking her up off her feet. Robin’s arms had wrapped around his neck, pulling him tight, and she’d sighed into his mouth, surrendering to the thing he was sure they’d both wanted for quite some time. 

After several glorious moments of tongues and teeth clashing, moans and sighs, they had both pulled away, panting heavily, trying to catch their breath. Emboldened, Strike had reached for her hand and pulled her close once more. He’d kissed her forehead, then rested his own forehead against hers. “You’re my home too,” he whispered, and he’d felt her press her lips against his, smiling into the kiss.

She had stepped back to look at him and wordlessly led him to the bedroom, where they’d spent the remainder of the evening discovering each other in the most intimate way possible. Afterward, they had fallen asleep in each other’s arms. 

The evening had been on repeat in his mind ever since he’d woken up, as if he wasn’t sure it had actually happened. With the rise of the morning sun, came the rise of his doubts that were beginning to sink in. Would their relationship withstand this sudden, yet not quite unexpected, change? Did he dare hope that he was worthy enough to pursue something real with Robin? 

As the hazy orange-yellow rays of the early morning sun peeked through the window blinds, the rays illuminated Robin’s form. Her porcelain skin was bathed in an ethereal glow and her hair was other-worldly golden in color. She looked and felt warm against him. The blinds created a zig-zagged pattern across her arm that was wrapped around him and he subconsciously began to trace the lines, causing her to stir once more. He watched as the light-colored hair on her arm stood straight up in response.

After a brief moment, he felt a vibration against his chest as she hummed into his skin, rubbing her cheek against him. Her eyes blinked open slowly as she took in her surroundings and the early-morning light that covered the two of them. She looked up toward Strike, blinking like a newborn fawn. 

“Hi,” he greeted her, his chest rumbling beneath her glowing skin. 

In response, she sat up on her elbow and placed a finger to his lips. She then brought her lips to his own and placed a chaste kiss against them. 

He gave her a questioning look in response. 

“Shhh,” she whispered. “Your thoughts are entirely too loud.” 

“How did you-?” he started.

“Because I know you,” she replied. “I know how your mind works, and I know this has sent you into a tailspin.” Robin reached up to stroke his hair, “You have no reason to doubt this. To doubt us. I meant what I said last night - my home is not a building or a place. It’s you,” she affirmed.

Strike kissed her again, his mind calm at once. “Robin, I want this more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life,” he told her in earnest. “I want to wake up to you like this every morning. In my bed, covered in nothing but sunlight. I want to feel your warm skin against mine,” he told her, as his hand roamed over her body. “I want all of your golden hours.”

Robin gave him a puzzled look. “What does that mean, exactly?”

He explained. “The golden hour is the first hour of light after the sun rises when the light is warmer and softer. Everything is covered in a golden glow, like this,” he paused, looking down at her skin, tracing the stripes of light on her arm. I want to spend all of those hours with you, for as long as you’ll have me.”

“I want the same,” she replied, nodding, swiping furiously at the tears that had threatened to spill over her lashes. She laughed softly and pulled him to her, kissing him fiercely. With her kiss, the doubts that had plagued his mind were long forgotten, and they once again got lost in each other, savoring the last few moments of the sun’s morning glow. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
